Wash the Spider Out
by 4NN0NYM0U5
Summary: What if Peter was much more injured during the final battle between himself and the Vulture? Short for now, review if you want me to continue!


_AN: First story on this site! Reviews would be greatly appreciated, but you don't have too. I'm not pushy._ Anyways, hope you enjoy this lil' story and if you have prompts or something let me know.

~O~ ~O~ ~O~

Happy P.O.V

Fire. Everything was burning. He was checking out the wreckage of the plane heading for the new Avengers facility, which had unexpectedly crashed. It was unsure why, though. As he, and other employees searched for any salvageable items, Happy ventured deeper into the wreck. What he found, however, was very surprising.

"Dear god," he whispered. Two bodies were lying on the ground, completely covered in soot. There wasn't supposed to be anyone on that plane. It was piloted using AI. Yet here he was, standing over two possibly dead people. _Maybe they got caught in the crash…_ He quickly approached the two. Now he was closer, he could get a better image of them. One was an older man. He was covered in burns, so that's all he could see. But the second… Happy felt his heart drop. It was Peter.

"Shit!" He exclaimed loudly. He slid onto one knee, checking for a pulse. _Faint..._ He swore under his breath. This would _not_ go well with the boss. It also wouldn't go well for Peter. He was in critical condition, his body covered with third degree burns. It was hard to recognise the kid. He scoffed.

"You _had_ to go off on your own again," he muttered.

May P.O.V

She'd called him, texted him, hell, she had even emailed Peter and he still didn't respond. _Where is that boy?_ She thought, rubbing her temples. When Peter got home, he'd be in a lot of trouble. Of course, that's if she can ever get in contact with her nephew. She sighed and pulled out her phone. There was only one other person she could think of calling, and she didn't like him. At all. With a groan, she slowly typed in the number. It rang for quite some time before someone answered.

"Stark Industries," someone greeted through the phone. May paced as she spoke.

"Hi, I was—uh, hoping to speak to Tony? Stark?" Her words were met by silence. She frowned. "Hello?"

"Still here," the person on the line sighed. "Alright, I'll patch you through." After faint muttering, the line went silent again. May just hoped that they wouldn't have up right away. After a few moments, she was greeted by a new voice.  
"I swear, if you're from that press company, I've already told you that I did not—"

"No, actually… You're Tony Stark?" She cut him off, ensuring she had the right person. There was a scoff.

"Is there another billionaire related to Stark Industries?" He asked, obviously being sarcastic. May took a deep breath.

"I'm May. Peters—"

"Aunt, right?" Tony cut her off, obviously getting her back for cutting him off moments ago.

"Yes, his aunt. Peter didn't come home today. I was wondering if you had any clue where he is?" She frowned at the silence. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, Tony answered.

"Oh, yeah, he's here! I forgot to remind him to tell you that he is uh… doing a classified project with me! Yep, that's right. He's right here." If Tony was trying to be reassuring, it wasn't working. If anything, it only made May certain that something was wrong. To test the billionaire, she decided to add,  
"Peter said the internship was over." There was a pause. Perhaps she'd gotten him. Maybe she has backed him into the corner. Maybe she'll finally get let in on what's going on

Tony's P.O.V

Tony was sitting in his office, his legs resting up on his desk carelessly. The shipments from Avengers Tower were sure to arrive soon. Happy hadn't informed him of any difficulties, after all. Suddenly, FRIDAY came over the intercom. **_Call transfer from Stark Industries._** He sighed.

"Put 'em through, FRI," he said with little enthusiasm. It wasn't often he got calls from his previous company, considering he didn't own it anymore. There was a moment of silence, before he could hear the static of the call.

"I swear, if you're from that press company, I've already told you that I did not—" He frowned as he was cut off.

"No, actually… You're Tony Stark?" Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Is there another billionaire related to Stark Industries?" He twirled his pen in his hand. The voice was somehow recognizable, but he couldn't put his finger on it. There was a deep breath.

"I'm May. Peters—"

"Aunt, right?" He knew she sounded familiar. Though, why May was calling was beyond him.

"Yes, his aunt. Peter didn't come home today. I was wondering if you had any clue where he is?" Tony slowly slid his feet off his desk. Peter was missing? _Well, I sure as hell don't have him._ Quickly, he thought of some excuse.

"Oh, yeah, he's here! I forgot to remind him to tell you that he is uh… doing a classified project with me! Yep, that's right. He's right here." He waited with a frown for the petrified aunt's response. It wasn't his best compromise, but it'd hopefully do the job.

"Peter said the internship was over." Tony wrinkled his nose. _Shit!_ Of course, Peter had told his aunt about the internship. A small detail he'd overlooked.

"Ah, well, I needed him for something quick. Sorry about that," he said after a while. Hopefully that would work. He quickly stood, dropping his pen on his desk.  
"Oh, well I…" May's voice was drowned out by FRIDAY. **_Mr. Parker is being transported to the MedBay, boss._**

 ****"Shit," he muttered. That couldn't be good.

"Shit? Whats 'shit?'" May asked, now sounding confused.

"Oh, uh nothing! Just—I'll have someone call you back or something." He began out the door.

"Stark—"

"End call!" He whipped open his door and started jogging towards the Medbay.

END (for now)

AN: Sorry for the cliff hanger, but I wanted to be sure you guys liked the story before I continued it. If I get enough reviews, the next chapter will be out shortly. However, if you did NOT like this story, simply don't review. I don't want to read your hate. Good vibes only! …'Kay cool.


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